


talkin' bout my girl ( my girl )

by larvitar



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: F/F, Implied Sexual Content, Underage Drinking, no smut tho lolololol, they're gross and in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-06 22:15:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12827226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larvitar/pseuds/larvitar
Summary: "This is the most PDA you've shown in like, ever.""'Cause I'm drunkkk, baby," Heather slurs.☆★☆chansaw , obligatory heather - is - drunk - and - gay fic





	talkin' bout my girl ( my girl )

It seems like a routine enough procedure, go to a party with Heather, Heather, and Heather,get super buzzed and have either Duke or Chandler drive her home. That was easy, the standard mode of operating, right?

Apparently not at Ram's holiday party. What the Heathers (but most importantly,  _her_ Heather) didn't know was that the eggnog was spiked, and that was the fun of it,  _supposedly._ Allegedly.

Veronica never drank the stuff ("It tastes like reindeer cum, Heather, Jesus Christ"), but apparently the Heathers did. McNamara was fond of chugging the stuff ("Too bad I can't shotgun it"), Duke was a big fan of mixing it with hot chocolate ("It's the ultimate holiday drink, eat shit, Veronica"), and Heather Chandler just found herself guzzling the egg-milk hell shit drink. Being raised in a Jewish family, she never got exposed to the stuff, celebrating Hanukkah and all. Maybe the, as Chandler would've put it, Christian-centric attitude of the party pressured her into it. How it happened, and how she drank such an amount that she was now drunk off her goddamn mind with such a high tolerance for alcohol, the world would never know, but, here she was, drunk, falling into Veronica's arms.

Heather had cornered her up against a wall at first, alcohol determined to ruin her sexy vibe. "Ronnie, baby, c'mereeeeeeeeee." Heather had never called her Ronnie. It was just weird, and Veronica found it insulting most of the time, but now, as a very intoxicated Heather Chandler was slurring it, it became sort of endearing. Heather then promptly fell over, and Veronica swooped her into the upstairs coat closet in an attempt to preserve her image (something Heather would dearly appreciate when she sobered up).

The closet door was shut, with the only sounds being muffled moans (ew) coming from the bedrooms. They were quiet enough that speaking made them inaudible, thank Lord. Veronica turned on the light after several grasps at the string for it, lighting up Heather's face in a way that was gorgeous, even in her drunken stupor. Her thick layers of blonde curls seemed to have a certain beautiful sheen to them, and her gray eyes were lit up with twinkles of desire. Veronica fanned herself in an attempt to stop her rapidly spreading pink blush across her face, but it was no use. Veronica was blushing like a dope at her drunken girlfriend.

"We gonna make out angel?" Heather slurred, tucking a piece of brown hair behind Veronica's ear, causing Veronica to shudder. Heather leaned in closer to speak again, her breath ghosting on Veronica's neck. "I know you want to," she lulled. "Just for a bitttt," Heather cooed, dusting kisses on Veronica's neck. "And maybeeee-" she leaned down to unbutton Veronica's blazer- "we could have a killer time." 

"You're drunk," Veronica stated as firm as she could, gently pushing Heather to the rack of expensive wool coats. "I'm sorry, it's just- it's just not right."

Heather looked back at Veronica like a deer in the headlights, tilting her head to the side and pouting. "That's not fair."

Veronica then thought it appropriate to lead Heather out of the closet, but before they could move, Heather fell on her chest and was now in her arms, and here they were.

Veronica shook her head, looking down at the blonde girl currently using her breasts as pillows. "Your boobs are so fucking-" Heather cradled them, causing Veronica to blush for the second time tonight, "-so fucking. Comfy. And so fucking- good. Please take your shirt off, I need to fucking- ugh." Heather slumped against her breasts, causing Veronica to straighten her up (her poise, in no way her sexuality) and tell her, "Not tonight. You're too drunk."

"Damn itttttt," Heather mumbled, caressing Veronica's face.

"This is the most PDA you've shown in like, ever."

"'Cause I'm drunkkk, baby," Heather slurs.

Veronica frowns. " _Just_ because you're drunk?"

"No no no angel, it isn't like that. I really love you more than you know, and- God. Sometimes I just want you to know how much I love you, because I really do love you." Heather cupped Veronica's face to face hers. "I love you, Veronica N. Sawyer. I really do, even if you don't believe me most of the time."

Veronica wants to cry now because  _holy shit,_ that's one of the sweetest things Heather has ever said to her. And while she's drunk off her ass, no less.

"Let's go home, you lovable idiot."

☆★☆

The ride home in Heather's Porsche is equal parts tempting and equal parts torturing. Heather would slide her hand up her skirt, teasing her like the bitch she was. "Come on. Stop the car. Let's have a quickie in the back seat."

"No ma'am. You can do all you want to me, but I won't do a thing to you, because you're drunk and you can't say yes."

" _All_ I want?" Heather purred. Veronica sighed. Heather only picked out of that sentence what she wanted to hear.

"Yes, alright? Just not enough to make me crash your car."

☆★☆

It had taken a lot of willpower to get home, but somehow, Veronica had done it, and stayed with Heather at her home overnight. The night passed, and the morning sun rose over the horizon, and Heather rose out of her bed. Veronica was next to her, awake as can be.

After a lazy "Morning, Sawyer", Heather rolled over to straddle Veronica. She gave Veronica pecks on her neck that soon turned into nips and then into bites that would surely create marks. Veronica unsuccessfully held back a moan, Heather smirking at her success. "Will you finally give me what I wanted, then?"

Veronica sighed, sliding herself to sit up from under Heather for a moment. "Just one thing." Veronica turned to face Heather. "Did you mean everything you said last night?"

"I said all that stuff about loving you. Right." A light pink dusted Heather's cheeks. "I did. It was more embarrassing than falling for the lone wolf with Dicaprio hairstyle."

Veronica put her face in her hands, remembering the dark times when she actually thought she liked Jason Dean, of all people. "Shut up! We don't talk about that," Veronica mumbled.

"Though, I'll be serious with you for a second," Heather said, once again cupping Veronica's face in her hands, "I do really love you. That wasn't the alcohol talking, it was more so as if it unlocked a lock that let my emotions spill out."

"Good," said Veronica, grinning like a dope,

"that's all I needed."

☆★☆

**Author's Note:**

> and u thot i was dead . hoo hoo hoo ( i wish ) . anywayz i hope you all enjoyed !!! i missed writing fanfic sooooo much and i wrote this all in a night . hopefully more fic will come with christmas break !!! i never know though because i'm so depressed and everything is hard . gggg thank you all for tolerating my long absence ♥  
> ☆★☆  
> torture me on tumblr krookodyke.tumblr.com


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